Left Alone
by Burning Stars
Summary: After Falere chooses to stay behind at the Ardat-Yakshi monastery, she must rebuild her home while learning to lead a solitary lifestyle, though the monastery may attract more attention than Falere or her mother could have ever anticipated. Takes place during and post-ME3.
1. Left Alone

**I do not own Mass Effect.**

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Falere stared at the courtyard plants, the waxy leaves catching the moonlight and fluttering in a passing breeze. The fragile song of the indoor fountains sounded across the veranda, though the peaceful façade held up poorly in the presence of so many corpses, belonging to Asari and reaper forces alike.

Her mother had left on the Normandy only a few hours ago. Falere had watched with a vague sense of emptiness as the ship passed through the upper atmosphere and disappeared into the haze of space. She hadn't quite grasped that it would leave her completely alone on this planet, the only sentient being on this single rock spinning around this single star in this single solar cluster.

The stark realization began to sink in the next day, when she spent all of the morning hours searching every room of the monastery and wandering through the surrounding forests, praying to find even one of her fellow Ardat-Yakshi. But Falere found no one. They were all gone. Jaral, Senna, Lin, Orsae, Yanis… all of them.

After the night swallowed the sun, Falere stood at the edge of the large veranda, staring at the stars. She threw a glance around the courtyard, still littered with corpses corrupted by the reapers. Some had been dear friends. But now… they were just dead monsters. Somewhere in the bowels of the monastery, she knew there were eight or nine commandos, brought down by the corrupted Ardat-Yakshi. Banshees, the commandos had called them.

Even Matriarch Gallae had succumbed to the invading forces, though she took out nine of the Banshees before they overwhelmed her.

But worst of all, the deepest knife in Falere's heart, was the loss of Rila.

The reapers had taken Rila away.

Never again would Falere see her sister's face, never again would they walk through the outer gardens, scheming about an escape that they knew would never take place. Never again would they hide in Falere's closet, reading a smuggled book by flashlight, fearful that the Matriarch would discover their insubordination, but reveling in the perceived danger nonetheless. Never again would they argue, or steal each other's food, or meditate at noon, or imagine how the outside world had changed since they arrived at the monastery. Never again would Falere hear her sister's voice, or see her smile, or inhale the flowery scent of her perfume.

Rila was… gone.

Falere allowed her tears to fall freely. No one was alive to see her cry.

The sour, metallic odor of reaper blood filled the halls, and the glowing blue substance had been splattered everywhere across the ground, especially in the courtyard. And who had to clean it all up?

Falere did.

Though she was grateful for the cold front that had rolled in last week. It meant the bodies wouldn't begin to stink for at least another few days.

She walked over to one of the many remaining corpses, a Cannibal. A field of shimmering blue energy formed around the creature's torso, then spread to its hideously deformed arms, legs, and face, eliminating the Cannibal's mass and allowing it to float in midair. The bodies were much too heavy for her to physically drag around, so she had been using her biotics to carry the corrupted to the edge of the veranda, where she would drop them into the forest about two hundred meters below. The reaper corpses didn't deserve a proper burial, and she wasn't about to waste her time giving them one. As for the commandos and the other uncorrupted Ardat-Yakshi, she was going to bury them up past the outer gardens, underneath the sprawling lafolen trees. And as for Rila… Falere hadn't mustered the courage to re-enter the main hall, even though the fires from the explosion had died out the day before.

Practically half of the monastery had burned down in a fire resulting from that explosion. The main hall, the east wing, one of the self-contained water treatment plants and a good portion of the mess hall and north wing had all been reduced to ash and smoking rubble. The library, the south and west wings, all of the gardens, and two of the water treatment plants had survived, thank the Goddess. At least she wouldn't die of hunger or thirst.

Falere gauged the position of the moon and determined that it was getting late, which would explain why her extensive biotic power was nearly depleted. She had actually been practicing her biotics since the day she arrived at the monastery, seeing as there were few other interesting things to do, and her own abilities had surpassed Rila's early on. Of course, she never let the Matriarch know about her little training sessions, since biotic practice by Ardat-Yakshi at the monastery was strictly prohibited. But even with Falere's proficiency, she'd been telekinetically moving heavy bodies around since noon, and constant, continual biotic output tends to wear out the neurons.

The Cannibal slowly dipped through the air, and Falere only got halfway across the courtyard before the Cannibal's legs touched the ground, dragging along on the pavement, creating an unbearable amount of friction. She finally had to give up.

The stinking carcass fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap, shiny blue blood oozing from the row of bullet holes blown into the side of its face. Falere hated everything about this grotesque, evil, despicable creature. It was a reaper by proxy, and it had killed her sister, and her friends, and the Matriarch, and even the people she didn't like so much but would do anything to see again. And this corpse possessed the _audacity_ to linger in her presence.

She clenched her fists, drew her right leg back, and swung it into the carcass with as much force as she could muster. Her foot sunk into the red flesh, and the body rolled over once, smacking against the ground like a revolting bag of meat jelly. Again she raised her foot, and brought it down more violently than before.

"May the Goddess curse you!" she shrieked, her voice echoing hollowly throughout the monastery halls. "May She cast you back into the foul pit that you dared crawl out of!" She stomped on the creature's face, popping one of the glowing eyes and sending a stream of blue gunk running across the pavement. "May you and all of your brethren burn in the seventh circle of the underworld, and may all of your ancestors weep over your fate!" Raising her foot again, she brought the heel of her shoe down on the creature's stomach, puncturing the surface and covering the back of her shoe in reaper gore.

"And may you never find peace in the afterlife!" Falere finally screamed, pouring her anger into one last biotic flare. Pulling the body up off of the ground, she raised it above her head, and with a guttural scream, threw it a clear twenty meters past the edge of the courtyard and down towards the forest below. A trail of blue energy traced the Cannibal's journey to the ground, the weak haze dissolving after a few moments.

Falere let out another wail, drawn from the very core of her being, but it quickly morphed into an agonized howl and she sunk to her knees, holding her face in her hands. Tears slipped between her quivering fingers and struck the stone walkway. Heaving sobs racked her chest, and it became difficult to catch a full breath of cold night air. Everything she loved was gone.

It was childish, she knew, but she wanted her mother to return. Even though her mother could be cold and uncaring, ridiculously idealistic in her views, and uncompromisingly adherent to the Code, almost to the point of lunacy, Falere still loved her. And the conversation they shared before the Normandy left had assured Falere that her mother loved her in return.

Falere wanted her sister back. She wanted her friends back. She even wanted the cynical, uptight, unforgiving Matriarch Gallae to come sauntering down the courtyard, handing out orders and harshly enforcing the rules like she always did.

But there was only Falere, alone, always wanting what she couldn't have.

Her sobs tapered off into weak whimpers, and she rolled over onto her back, wiping away the dampness on her cheek with the heel of her hand. High above, the single moon hung in the sky, and for a brief moment Falere could relate to the moon's solitude. It had been orbiting this planet for millions of years, watching all of the animals and plants evolve and grow, then wither and die as life moved on. And then the Ardat-Yakshi had come, carrying out their miserable existences in the monastery, and the moon had silently observed as their lives rolled on. But the moon could never interact with the beings on the surface. No, it had to live a lonely existence up in the sky, always watching from afar.

Dear Goddess. Falere had only been alone for one day and she was already assigning a personality to the moon.

"Okay," she whispered, picking herself up off of the ground. She brushed the dust off of her dress and plucked a small piece of gravel off of her crest. "Pity party's over."

As she walked towards her own room, located at the end of the west wing, a hunger pain shot through her stomach and up to the base of her neck. She hadn't eaten in over two days, and the grief could no longer drown out her growing appetite. With a sigh she turned on her heels and strode through the atrium, passing two of the downed commandos on the way. She paused, staring at them, and an unappeasable grief took root at the space below her neck and between her shoulders. Why did these Asari have to die? Lying nearby were two Banshees, riddled with bullet holes and biotic burns, and Falere could take a guess at what sort of fate the commandos suffered.

Falere blinked twice and tore her gaze away from the dead bodies, proceeding to the charred remains of the mess hall, actively keeping her thoughts from spiraling into another dark place.

As she picked her way through the fire-ravaged room, she spied a few barrels that one of the kitchen workers had pushed up against the east wall, that one action allowing the small provision of fruit, vegetables, and grain to survive the inferno. She reached into one of the containers and pulled out an bright green, fleshy fruit, about the size of her fist and grown on the monastery grounds with trees that had been recently imported from Horizon. Matriarch Gallae made the executive decision to include more variety in their diet, and so she chose some exotic Horizon produce to add some zest. Biting into the sour fruit, Falere seated herself on one of the stone chairs, crossing her legs and surveying the scene of destruction.

The flames had consumed most of the support pillars and a majority of the roof had collapsed, leaving piles of light gray rubble on the walkway and revealing a breathtaking, if not unwanted view of the nighttime sky. Black ash coated the ground, the remains of years' worth of food that had only taken seconds to go up in smoke, mixed in with the residue of the cloth banners that had once hung proudly on the walls, displaying the seal of every planet and republic that the residing Ardat-Yakshi hailed from. Even though the Matriarch had installed the banners with the express purpose of boosting the morale of the inhabitants, Falere always held a deep disdain for them. It had always seemed like an underhanded taunt, reminding the Ardat-Yakshi of the home they could never return to. _See how we can cage you, worthless demons? No one cares if you suffer._

Biting off the last edible portion of the fruit, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and delicately placed the core on the table in front of her. She'd have to figure out a way to dispose of her garbage that wouldn't end up cluttering the entire monastery or the surrounding grounds. Of course, she could always toss her waste over the edge of the courtyard, like the reaper bodies.

No, she wouldn't let herself develop such a bad habit. A pile of dead bodies at the base of the mountain was bad enough, and garbage would just compound the problem.

Of course, the food waste could be used for compost. Since she'd have to grow her own food now, a hygienic fertilizer would come in handy.

Falere slumped against the back of her seat and let out a low, annoyed groan. The responsibility of tending to the gardens now fell squarely on her shoulders, though she would only need two or three acres to sustain herself. She could definitely let the grains go, at least the ones necessary for making those spirits that the galaxy so coveted. Falere figured that, after this war came to an end, the survivors would be more focused on rebuilding civilization than on drinking rare and expensive alcohol. She had no idea how to brew or distill it, anyways.

Running a hand along her crest, she closed her eyes and allowed her breath to escape in a slow hiss. Rebuilding the monastery would be difficult, perhaps impossible for the areas damaged by the fire. She had no material to mend the walls, or the ceiling, or the floor. Replanting the ferns was within her ability, as was sweeping up the rubble and cleaning up the splattered blood. But so much work had to be done.

Her thoughts inevitably wandered to her sister. The knife dug itself deeper into her heart, tearing the ragged hole wider, and she felt the warm tears roll down her face again.

She kept expecting Rila to tap her on the shoulder, give one of her superstar smiles, and in her ever-compassionate manner, offer to help clean up this mess. But Rila never did. And she never would again.

If only Falere had gotten to her sister sooner, if only they had been together when the reapers attacked, if only they hadn't been born Ardat-Yakshi. If only, if only, if only…

Falere could spend the rest of her life lamenting about what could have happened, or what she could have done, or what could have been. But she knew that wouldn't bring her any happiness or closure, and it would never bring her sister back.

Through sheer force of will, she dragged herself up off of the chair, and staggered to the atrium. How many days had she spent here, sitting in meditation alongside her sister and the other Ardat-Yakshi? Something she could never do again. There were so many things she could never do again, so many people she would never see again. And the acceptance of this information, Falere knew, would continue to elude her for a long time.

A sudden sound drew her attention.

Freezing in her tracks, Falere pricked her ears and turned to the remains of the north wing. A faint, desperate scratching echoed down the hallway, setting her heart at a gallop. Plenty of dangerous animals populated the surrounding forests, and it was entirely possible for one of them to wander into the monastery, especially with all of the damaged walls. But maybe it was one of the other Ardat-Yakshi…?

Against her better judgment, she chose to track the source of the sound, winding through the curving architecture of the north wing, careful to avoid the structurally unsound areas damaged by the blast. Her ears led her to the room of Matriarch Gallae, which under normal circumstances was locked to all of the inhabitants other than the Matriarch herself. Today was no exception. But Falere definitely heard scratching and whining from behind the white door. Fear flooded her veins as she stepped back, bracing herself for whatever stood behind this barrier.

She didn't know how to bypass the lock, but her biotics had slightly recharged from when she had her meltdown, probably enough to release the double doors. Focusing what little energy she had left on the obstruction, Falere pried them open through sheer telekinetic force. Blue energy radiated off of her arms and shoulders, and the tracks grudgingly crawled back, but once they relinquished a few inches or so, the locks broke and the sliding doors crashed into the walls with an earsplitting screech.

Falere let out a hoarse scream when she saw what awaited her on the other side, but immediately silenced herself, feeling like an idiot for being afraid of such a harmless animal.

Before her, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, stood a shivering quadruped no larger than her forearm. It cowered away from her, tail between its legs. To her recollection, this pathetically small creature was called a dog.

She knelt down, and the little ball of black fur inched towards her, evaluating the danger that she posed. Apparently it determined her to be safe, because it trotted over, allowing her to scoop up the emaciated animal in her arms.

The Matriarch had kept a personal pet! That violated so many rules and regulations… Wait. The Matriarch _made _the rules. Owning a pet like this was blatant hypocrisy! How had she even snuck this mammal onto Lessa? It explained the animal's small stature, since the Matriarch had to keep its existence hidden from the rest of the monastery. To Falere's knowledge, the Matriarch had always had a soft spot for small, furry animals. Owning this dog was apparently her guilty pleasure. But intentionally breaking the rules? It seemed the real Matriarch Gallae was nothing like the inflexible watchdog of an Asari that Falere thought she had known so well.

Around the dog's neck was a red collar, but the animal had no nametag. "What am I to call you, then?" Falere asked the dog. It didn't give her an answer.

Of all the different pets to choose from, the Matriarch chose one from Earth? How strange. The galaxy housed thousands of domesticated species, almost all of which possessed lifespans much longer than that of a mere dog. Why go to the trouble of smuggling the animal onto Lessa, when it would die only a few short years later? It seemed like a wasted effort.

But getting back to the animal, Falere couldn't even tell whether it was male or female. So what could she call it? What androgynous names did she know?

She could call it Zen, or Sasha, or Deno. Or maybe Opie.

Perhaps she could call it Mammalian Quadruped? At least that name would be accurate. And she could call it Lian for short.

Now that she thought about it, she actually liked the name Lian, just by itself. It fit the dog well.

"Lian!" she called, hoping it would elicit a response from the animal.

With two disproportionately large black eyes, the dog gave her a somber stare, but barely even lifted its head. Oh, of course. This animal needed sustenance.

Falere stepped into the well-furnished space, though it felt strange walking through the Matriarch's private quarters like this. An elegant, red-canopied bed took up a sizeable portion of the room, and grand patterns had been carved into the four bedposts, where one line branched into an intricate maze of trees and countryside scenes, enough to keep an observer occupied for hours. She spotted a large bowl sitting in one corner, shoved between the bed and an ornate writing table. A thin layer of water still rested at the bottom, indicating that the dog wasn't in immediate need of hydration. However, there was no evidence that the dog had any food to eat over the past two days. It appeared that Matriarch had trained the dog to relieve itself in a single waste box that leaned against the opposite wall, to keep the dog from ever having to leave the room. Clever woman. It also appeared that this training had saved the room from becoming a health hazard in the Matriarch's absence.

Within the closet, Falere found an extensive amount of dog food piled up on one of the higher shelves, seven medium-sized bags in total. Beside the food was a small plate. Falere set it on the ground, placing a handful of the brown pellets in the very center. She released the dog, and it set to work on the food, wagging its tail and chewing happily into the miniature mountain.

Stroking the dog's bony back, she murmured, "We're going to be best friends, you and I."

They only had each other, whether they liked it or not.

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**A/N: I was surprised by the lack of fanfiction involving Falere, so I wrote some of my own. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Reflection

**I do not own Mass Effect.**

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She stared at the doors of the main hall. Did she truly wish to see what was left on the other side of this barrier? Did she truly wish to pry open this sepulcher, and tarnish the hallowed ground?

Yes. After three days of pained deliberation, the answer was yes.

She owed Rila this much. Falere had already buried all of the commandos, and her sister most of all deserved a proper burial.

Telekinetically taking hold of the double doors, both bent out of place by the blast, Falere ripped them away, plastering the mangled sheets of warped metal up against the blackened walls.

Not a single pane of glass remained intact. The blast had obliterated all of the windows, and only jagged teeth of glass remained, like gaping mouths up against the soft purple of twilight. Black ash had been splattered up against the walls, and Falere felt as if she were walking into the ribcage of some dead, desiccated creature. Dozens of blackened corpses, little more than hunks of porous charcoal, lined the walls. Where the bomb went off, a crater sat: deep, about five feet wide and two feet deep. The explosion had ripped the stairs apart, sending chunks of cement halfway across the hall, and for a brief moment Falere thought she wouldn't be able to find her sister.

But then she spotted them.

Two hazy shadows, seared into the left wall. One obviously a Banshee, the other obviously Rila.

That was all that remained of her sister: a silhouette.

Falere sunk to her knees, unwilling to accept this. She hadn't expected to see her sister's face, oh no. She wasn't that naïve. But she had expected to find something, anything, just so she could lay Rila to rest. Anything to give herself closure.

And yet there was nothing, save the ashes on the wall.

Placing her hands on the ground, her fingers tensing against the stone, a scream rose from Falere's throat; fierce, devastated, tortured. She was alone here, and she couldn't even bury her sister. What did is say about her situation, if she would have been happy to just have Rila's body?

Her scream grew in strength until it tore at her vocal cords, emptied her lungs, consumed her entire world. This is what her universe was made of: ashes and rubble and pain. Piles of charcoal that once held thoughts, and dreams, and hopes, and memories. Dead commandos who died without knowing why the war machine demanded them as a sacrifice.

"How could you leave me, Rila?!" she cried, pulling the surrounding gravel up into a swirling blue torrent of crackling biotic energy. "You promised we would stay together! You promised we would leave together! You promised you would stay by my side!" Her voice cracked and she released the debris. It flew in all directions, striking the walls and flying out of the gaping windows and skittering across the ground.

Her voice echoed powerfully in the hollow hall, but it wasn't enough to chase away the silence. The utter lack of sound had haunted her for the past five days. The silence was oppressive, like hands holding the sides of her face, too tightly, too tightly, suffocating her.

Her knees cracked against the stone, and she lowered her chest to the ground, holding her hands behind her neck. She breathed in, smelling the musty, charred dust that littered everything.

A cold dot pressed against her arm, and she looked down to see Lian, wagging his black puffball of a tail and pushing his tiny nose into the crook of her arm. Falere delicately picked the dog up and nuzzled the side of his little warm body, her sobs muffled by his mane of black fur. She held the dog close to her chest and felt his heart thumping against the sides of his ribcage. How strange it was, holding this small ball of life amid such death.

For ten minutes she sat on the cold ground, staring listlessly at the darkening sky and absentmindedly scratching the dog behind the ears.

A stark realization suddenly passed over her, dark and cold like a shadow.

Falere should have died. Not Rila.

Falere had no right to be alive if her sister was not.

Even during childhood, Rila had always been better. A better sister, a better friend, a better person. Countless times, Rila had provided a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, a secure vault for Falere's secrets, an ever-ready helping hand, a voice of reason when everything had fallen to chaos. The embodiment of beauty, grace, and elegance.

And what was Falere? Whiny, apprehensive, selfish. The troublemaker. Nothing more than an inconsiderate fool.

Yet the lesser sister sat here, alive, while the greater was nothing more than an ash-laden memory. Falere bit her lip in an attempt to stifle an oncoming sob. There was no justice in this universe.

Reluctantly she stood, still clutching the dog close to her chest. A definite chill was creeping into the air, digging its claws deep into her flesh. She felt Lian shivering from the cold, and decided it was time to get a blanket.

Through the corridors she trudged, walking all the way to her own room because she was too afraid to take a blanket from any of the others. She didn't want to disrespect the dead by defiling their possessions.

She tore the heavy blanket from the top of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, like a shawl, then walked all the way back out onto the courtyard and sat down on the ground, careful to keep a layer of fabric between her and the freezing cold pavement. Lian poked his head out from between the blanket, his chest expanding and contracting with quick breaths.

Far, far above her, the moonlight scattered throughout the frozen atmosphere, forming a halo around the full moon. The sky held no clouds, and the forested mountains expanded for miles and miles to the horizon, the ocean of trees bathed in silver light.

How alone she felt.

Falere though of her mother. The Justicar, who held irrevocable beliefs, who adhered to an ancient and ridiculous code, who had taken it upon herself to purge the galaxy of evil. And who, apparently, still loved her children. That last one came as a surprise to Falere.

When Mirala ran away and assumed the name Morinth, it marked the end of Falere's happy family… their beautiful lives fell apart so horrifyingly fast.

Mirala had always been the smart one. Perfection personified. Beautiful, cunning, resourceful, brave; everything their mother valued. But back then, there was something else that ascribed Mirala's perfection: she truly and honestly cared about other people, especially Rila and Falere. She stood up for herself, and defended those she loved, and fought for what she believed.

Mirala would have made a good Justicar.

But when the doctors diagnosed her as an Ardat-Yakshi, a great and terrible change came over Falere's eldest sister, as well as her mother. It was almost as if Mirala took her condition as an excuse to kill, an excuse to devolve into a remorseless killer. No, that statement was incorrect. Mirala didn't use her condition as an excuse, oh no. She saw her condition as a blessing. In her own mind, she became a goddess among mortals; not just a tool of destruction, but destruction _incarnate_.

And Falere could only watch as the beautiful Mirala twisted herself into the calculating, violent, and ruthless Morinth, corrupted by her own delusions of genetic superiority, and the constant, evil desire felt by all Ardat-Yakshi. But no matter what lies Falere's eldest sister told herself, she was always alone. She lived alone, and she died alone. No one could ever give her the kind of love she needed, at least never more than once. And so she became a monster, became Morinth, to dull the pain of eternal solitude.

Accepting Mirala's degeneration very nearly broke Falere's mother. After all, Mirala had always been her mother's favorite. Watching her fall so far was like watching a magnificent and wild beast succumb to an insidious parasite. In this case, the parasite was Morinth.

The eldest Demon of the Night Winds escaped into the black expanse of the galaxy, without so much as a goodbye. Her mother tried to follow, but Falere and Rila still needed her, and it was nearly impossible to follow the trail of such an intelligent person, especially when she didn't want to be found.

It took a long while, but her mother eventually accepted that while Mirala was dead, Morinth was very much alive.

A few years later, Rila received the same devastating diagnosis. Sweet, caring, helpful Rila, the beautiful Asari who wanted to be an actress, was told that she would never be able to live among the world of the normal. No one would ever know of her talent, or her aspirations, or her unending optimism, or her vibrant personality. Rila chose to leave and live at the monastery, where her magnificence would be wasted.

With both of her older sisters diagnosed as Ardat-Yakshi, her mother's last hope rested with Falere. Falere existed as her mother's sole hope to ever have grandchildren, to ever lead a normal life with a normal daughter. And Falere wanted so badly to be normal. Not only did she want to avoid the terrible stigma of being an Ardat-Yakshi, but she didn't want to let her mother down.

But Falere could not be her mother's savior.

On her thirty-seventh birthday, Falere's life fell down around her, collapsing like beautiful shards of nothingness. The doctors told her that she resided on the Ardat-Yakshi spectrum, though her case wasn't as severe as Morinth's, and was only slightly worse than Rila's. Regardless, she would never bear children. She could never become romantically involved with anyone, not even the handsome Turian who lived down at the end of her street. A sudden pang of sadness ran through her when she remembered that he had been dead for three centuries, at the least. The curse of the Asari lifespan. His face had faded from her memory, and the only detail that lingered with her was the color of his eyes; his beautiful, fathomless copper eyes. They never shared anything romantic, but… he had been a dear friend. She never even had the chance to say goodbye. And now she would never see him again.

Lian snuggled up against her chest, ad she ran a hand through his mane of back fur. His saucer-sized ears twitched, trying to pick up any noise amongst the silence.

A tear rolled down the side of Falere's face, and she wiped it away with the heel of her hand.

Her mother hadn't become a Justicar because of Morinth. No, no.

Falere could pinpoint the exact moment when that great and terrible change came over her mother: when the doctor told her that her last hope, Falere, was an infertile, genetic dead-end, a life-sucking monster, just like Rila and Morinth.

Her mother became a Justicar because Falere wasn't good enough.

Choosing to go to the monastery hadn't been a difficult decision for Falere, though. The monastery was the least terrible choice out of the three available to her: live a life of comfortable yet involuntary seclusion, run away and inevitably get caught, or face immediate execution. Her mind was made up even before the nearsighted doctor presented her with the choices.

At first, many unspoken apologies passed between Falere and her mother. The elder Asari regretted her early life choices, because all three of her daughters were paying the price. But that regret and sorrow slowly mutated into something Falere could barely recognize: avoidance, loathing, disgust… even hatred. In the days before Falere left for the monastery, when she lived under house arrest, just waiting for the authorized transport shuttle to come whisk her away, her mother refused to even make eye contact; as if Falere had brought her great shame and disappointment by simply being born.

A few months into Falere's stay at the monastery, she and Rila received a notice via the extranet. She had read the message so many times that it had seared every single agonizing pixel into memory. And it hurt more and more each time she read it. She had memorized every letter, every space, every possible meaning of every word, and the incalculable pain that drove itself into her heart each time she saw the cold, cruel letters:

_Source: Meridia/Honin/Temple of the Justicar Order_

_Sent_5039423: 34-093-349_

_Received: Falere T'Naya/Lesuss/Marya_

_Your mother, Samara T'Naya, has made the honorable decision to join the Justicar Order. Few embark upon this arduous path, and even fewer reach the final destination. As you may know, members of the Order have sworn to relinquish all familial connections, and seeing as you are her daughter(s), this will mark the last communication you share. _

_Your mother's choice should bring you great pride, as she has taken up the grand cause of justice and truth in a dark and wicked galaxy. _

_May the Goddess watch over your path._

Oh, Falere held great pride in her mother. She felt so much damn pride that it made her sick. Her mother abandoned them, by becoming a beacon of justice in the galaxy in some misguided attempt to make up for bringing three Ardat-Yakshi into existence.

When her mother arrived to fight off the reapers, that was the first time they'd seen each other, let alone spoken face to face, in the past four hundred and thirty years. Falere was surprised by her mother's appearance: she was much older, and her idealism had only grown stronger. But there was something else in her mother's demeanor, something that had been completely lacking when Falere left for the monastery: peace.

Perhaps four centuries of meditation had allowed her to reach inner calm. Or perhaps her mother had found peace by ridding the galaxy of Morinth.

Either way, Falere was… happy to see her mother again. It had been far too long. And after spending such a long time in festering silence, it pleased Falere to finally be on good terms with her mother again.

Truly, Falere owed Shepard a great deal for convincing her mother that her logic was flawed. Such a feat was no small task.

Even though she knew it was an immature desire, she wanted the Normandy to return. Shepard and his crew were out saving the galaxy, and she wanted them to come back and give her some company. What a stupid notion.

Really, though, she just wanted someone to talk to. After four days, she was tired of such utter and complete silence, because she needed to share her thoughts and her words with another sentient being. She could talk poor Lian's ears off, but he could never give her a proper response. He could only listen.

Letting out a pent-up sigh, Falere laid on her side, bunching up some of the blanket and placing it under her head, like a pillow. Rolling herself up in the remaining fabric, she pulled Lian into the folds of the blanket and made sure he has access to fresh air, but kept him away from her chest, in case she rolled over in her sleep.

She closed her eyes, and savored the cold air as a soft breeze washed across her face.

She would not sleep in her room tonight.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


End file.
